


Better Late Than Never

by bgharison



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 13:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13547916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bgharison/pseuds/bgharison
Summary: “I didn’t wanna be right,” Danny said quietly. “I let you convince me I was wrong. But the way she tore into that guy . . . I thought I saw something, yeah.”Steve rubbed the back of his neck as Chin turned to him.“You heard her,” Steve said. He looked down at his boots, scuffed his toe against the floor. “I’m not put together right on the inside. Guess I thought I recognized that . . . I don’t know . . .”“Babe,” Danny said, all fond and sympathetic, and Steve wondered, not for the first time, who really took care of who around here.





	Better Late Than Never

**Author's Note:**

> No progress on the works in progress because this grabbed me and wouldn’t let go until I wrote it. There may, at some point, be a continuation, and honestly, I don’t know if it will be McKono or McDanno. I see hints of both here, and I’m curious as to where it might take me, but there won’t be a follow up until I can do with without it being stereotypical and trite, so we’ll have to see.
> 
> The mildest of mild trigger warnings regarding sexual abuse, but absolutely nothing explicit or graphic or even very straightforward, honestly, because that kind of detail just isn’t at all necessary to the story. 
> 
> This story is strictly and completely a team dynamic; if I post a continuation later, I’ll be very clear as to pairings, if any, so that you can read it or skip it as you choose.

Jameson brought the case file from the DA to them herself.

She tapped the folder against her open hand before handing it to Steve, her fingers keeping a grip on it for just a moment.

“It’s a high profile case,” Jameson said. “I trust it will be handled with the sensitivity it deserves.”

Steve felt Danny at his elbow.

“And by that, obviously, you mean that we will be extremely sensitive to the needs of the young women who are filing charges,” Danny said. “Protect their privacy. Protect their families, if needed; respond to any hint of threats. Obviously, you mean that we will handle the young women with the sensitivity they deserve.”

Jameson nodded nervously. “Obviously.”

“Children. Young women and . . . children,” Steve said quietly, flipping through the folder. He closed it, the heavy cardstock bending in his grip. “Youngest victim is seven.”

“Son of a bitch,” Danny muttered.

#*#*#*#*#

After weeks of gut-wrenching interviews, tracking down witnesses who led to more victims who led to even more more victims . . . they had a solid warrant. The DA was worried that the suspect would be a flight risk. Or possibly a mass suicide, take-out-his-followers-with-him risk.

“He’s a high profile public figure. His followers -- his ‘congregation’ -- are extremely loyal,” she said, as she handed the warrant over to Steve. “He has everything to lose by facing his accusers, everything to gain by attempting to flee to a country with no extradition.”

“We’ll get everything at once,” Steve said. He tucked the warrant into one of his many pockets. “We take him down first and then everything on the premises gets tagged and bagged.”

“His security staff is well-armed. If he’s been tipped off, they could attempt an armed stand-off,” she warned.

“Oh, I hope so,” Steve said. His tone was low. Dangerous.

Kono glanced up from smacking down the velcro on her kevlar. Steve’s face was expressionless but his eyes glinted, predatory. Danny caught her gaze and nodded, once, slowly. His normally sunny blue eyes were ice. Chin’s neutral Zen had morphed into a mask of rage. Kono let their righteous fury wash over her, let it wrap around her like a blanket. She shoved down the useless and pointless whisper of a thought of if only . . . and grabbed extra clips.

“Hey. You okay?”

It was Steve’s voice, calm and quiet, his fingers feather light on her arm.

“I’m good, boss,” she said firmly. “Let’s get this bastard.”

#*#*#*#*#

The DA’s concerns had been justified, but the well-armed faithful disciples were no match for Five-O. Three bodies littered the front steps, and paramedics were loading up a few more.

“You didn’t leave anything for us?” Captain Grover asked Chin. “Why did I bring SWAT down here, again?”

“Back up,” Chin said quietly. They looked at the door of the mansion, hanging askew in what was left of the smoldering frame, as Steve frogmarched the struggling man toward the armored transport. Blood dripped steadily from his nose and mouth, turning the color of his previously pristine white shirt collar a sickening mottled red. Danny was on their heels, reading off the Miranda rights and occasionally glancing back over his shoulder at the mansion.

Grover grunted, and Chin patted him on his huge, heavily equipped frame as he turned to round up his team. SWAT pulled out, leaving the manicured grounds suddenly quiet and empty. Chin doubled checked his shotgun and secured it in the back of his SUV.

Steve leaned over, hands braced on his legs, to catch his breath. Danny paced in front of him. They seemed tense, Chin thought, for people who had just successfully secured a suspect. Steve huffed out a breath and opened the doors of the transport again, climbing in and leaving the doors open.

“Hey, where’s Kono?” Chin asked, suddenly noticing his baby cousin’s absence. Before Danny could answer, they were distracted by the conversation inside the vehicle.

“I’ll file a brutality report,” came the muffled voice.

“Yeah, that’s fine, go for it,” Steve said. They could see the broad sweep of his shoulders as he stood, slightly bent over in the back of the vehicle. “In the context of the charges against you, yeah, file a complaint against my female officer who weighs, what, a buck fifteen? Up against you -- two hundred plus, ex-Marine?”

“The way to righteousness is one of disciplined obedience,” he said. “Marine Corps values have served me well in the Lord’s army.”

“See how they serve you in prison,” Steve snarled. He stepped gracefully out of the back of the transport, slamming the doors shut.

“Kono?” Chin asked. Steve and Danny exchanged a glance.

“This case hit us all hard,” Steve said. “Kono’s spent more time with the victims, especially the young ones . . . she’s heard their stories, hell, some of the little ones sat in her lap . . . she --” he broke off, gesturing helplessly.

“I don’t -- that was from Kono?” Chin asked, pointing to the vehicle as it pulled away. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

“I pulled her off him, handed her off to a medic,” Steve said. “Her hand is busted.”

“I don’t understand,” Chin said. “Did he threaten her? Get the drop on her, what?”

“This is her first case involving minors and a sexual predator,” Danny said quietly. “She got a little too close, overreacted in the heat of the moment.”

“He provoked her,” Steve said. Chin recognized the stubborn set to his jaw. It looked familiar.

“Gonna be hard to prove,” Danny said, shaking his head. “I think you’d be better just going with immunity and means. Besides, when it comes out what this asshole did . . . if he complains, Kono will just be a local hero. HPD won’t press it.”

Chin sighed. It wasn’t the first time Kono had gone in a little hot. Maybe it hadn’t been the greatest idea to bring her on when she was such an impressionable rookie. Then again, who could have predicted that of the three of them, it would have been Steve that she chose as her role model.

Well, now that he thought of it, he should have seen that coming, Chin realized, as he went off in search of his errant cousin.

#*#*#*#*#

“Sidestreets?” Steve asked half-heartedly, after the last of the paperwork had been completed. In triplicate.

“I’m not up for it, sorry, babe,” Danny said. His eyes were clouded, his shoulders hunched in exhaustion. Steve wondered if he’d slept at all. 

“A drink -- actually, several drinks -- would be good, but . . .” Chin trailed off.

“I don’t know if I want to be drunk or waterlogged,” Kono said. “Probably both. But neither in public.”

“Then everyone comes back to my place,” Steve said. 

Chin and Danny mumbled agreements and went back to their offices to shut down. Kono started to follow them.

“Kono,” Steve said quietly.

She turned back. He wordlessly handed her a copy of an incident report, one he’d had to fill out just for her, after she’d used the pastor as an impromptu close combat training dummy.

“I wrote it out to the best of my recollection,” Steve said. She tried not to squirm under his gaze, his hazel eyes fixed on her. “If you think it looks right, you can sign off on it. It’s just a precaution, Kono. If he tries to make a big deal of it, I’ll take it straight to the governor.”

“You’re saying you’re not going to hold me accountable,” Kono said. She picked at the bandage on her hand. 

“I’m saying I stand by my written report,” Steve said. 

She read it. Short, brief, to the point. She looked up at him in confusion.

“You’re saying I was provoked,” she said.

“Weren’t you?” he challenged. “I know what I saw, Kono. You were on my six, backing me up, in control, and then . . . then you weren’t. Something happened, he must have -- ”

“I’m not sure what you think you saw,” Kono said. “I just lost my temper.“ She picked up a pen from Steve’s desk and signed the paper, awkwardly, her fingers still clumsy and swollen. 

“Thank you,” she said, not meeting his eyes as she put the report back on his desk.

“Kono, look . . . it happens,” Steve said gently.

“Won’t happen again,” she said. 

“Come over. Drink it off, swim it off, whatever,” Steve said. 

“Thanks, boss, catch up with you there,” Kono said. “And . . . thanks.”

Steve nodded, silently, watching as Kono slipped into the elevator.

#*#*#*#*#

Steve handed a Longboard to Danny and Chin, grabbed one for himself, and collapsed into a chair on the lanai. There was just enough of a hint of rain that they’d opted for the protected area by the house, rather than their usual chairs by the water.

Danny sighed deeply and slouched down into his chair, draining half his bottle in one go.

“Damn it, I hate cases like this,” he said. “Every one of those girls -- every one -- I look at them, I see Grace. How the hell does this happen?”

Neither Chin nor Steve had an answer. They shook their heads and started on their own bottles. Chin’s phone buzzed and he fished in his pocket for it, smiling absently when he saw Kono’s name.

“Cousin, we have a head start,” he said fondly. A flicker of confusion, then concern, washed over his face. “Kono . . . okay, if you’re sure. Be safe.” He thumbed off his phone.

“What’s up with our feisty rookie?” Danny asked.

“She’s not coming,” Chin sighed. “She’s going surfing. Sandy’s -- I know, Steve, but she’s determined.”

“Who’s Sandy?” Danny asked. “Friend from the academy? Another cousin?”

Steve chuckled and shook his head. He put his barely touched bottle on the table next to him. “Sandy’s is one of the most dangerous breaks on the island. Only locals who understand the current surf there.”

“But it’s dark,” Danny said. “And wasn’t her hand busted to shit?”

“Yes,” Chin said. 

Danny chewed on his lip and picked at the label on his bottle. “She took the case hard.”

“Yes,” Chin said again.

“You don’t think . . . it was because of the kids, right?” Danny asked. “I mean, Kono . . . you don’t think, when she lost it today, she was . . . triggered, or anything. Right?”

“I’ve known her all her life,” Chin said. “I would have known. She would have come to me.”

“Of course,” Danny said, relieved. “This case . . . it got to me, and sadly, it’s not my first rodeo. And Kono, hey, we saw how she handled that guy moving in on her wave the first day you introduced us.”

“That’s my cousin,” Chin said, chuckling. 

Steve stood up, walked to the edge of the house, and grabbed his surfboard, propped under the shelter of the second story lanai.

“Steve?” Chin asked.

“Like Danny said, this case. It got to us, and Kono . . . Sandy’s is rough, and I don’t just mean the break,” Steve said quietly.

“I’m her cousin, I could go,” Chin said.

Steve shook his head. “You’ve had a couple . . . you and Danny, just make yourselves at home, crash here. You know where everything is.”

“She doesn’t like being smothered,” Chin warned.

“Long as she doesn’t run into any trouble, she won’t even know I’m there,” Steve said.

Danny nodded at the surfboard. “Thought you said Sandy’s had rough waves, I’m guessing professional level waves. Didn’t know you were that good, babe.”

“Not important whether I can surf it,” Steve said. “Might be useful that I can swim it.”

Chin stood up and gripped Steve’s forearm in his hand. “Mahalo,” he said softly. 

“Ohana,” Steve said, smiling at him.

#*#*#*#*#

A handful of hard core surfers dotted the beach, taking advantage of the full moon and the complete and utter absence of fools who had no business trying to surf this break. Steve parked the truck in the almost empty public access, rolled down the windows, and watched.

God, she’s amazing, he thought, watching Kono cut through the waves. They were aggressive, but she was more aggressive. He could see anger radiating off her, but with each pass, it seemed to bleed more and more into the water. She rode wave after wave, ducking neatly back under the breakers and paddling back out, again and again, until finally she lay on her board and let a wave carry her all the way in. A few of the guys nodded to her, just short, quick acknowledgements of her skill. Steve cringed as she headed straight for his truck, her strong legs eating up the distance between them quickly.

“Chin put you up to this?” she asked, her face level with his at his window.

“No,” he answered honestly. “Though if I hadn’t come, he might have.”

“Don’t need a babysitter,” she said. Her eyes were unreadable in the moonlight. “Don’t need a lifeguard, either. Only reason for you to be here is to surf. Otherwise, go the hell home.”

She’d thrown it out like a challenge, and he wasn’t one to back down. He jerked his head back to the bed of the truck, and she looked, nodding when she saw his board. 

“Surf’s up, boss,” she said. Without another glance, she took back off toward the water.

Steve sighed. It could be a long night.

#*#*#*#*#

She was gracious enough not to comment on a couple of epic wipe-outs, and thank God, she hadn’t bailed off her own board to check on him. She might not have been completely impressed with his surfing abilities, but at least she knew he didn’t need rescuing.

Still, he didn’t bother to hide the wince as he blotted off his elbow, rubbed raw by the ocean floor.

“That’s gotta sting,” Kono said, squeezing the water out of her hair.

He nodded at her hand, bandage long gone. “That’s gotta sting, too.”

She shrugged. “Salt water’s good for it.”

“It’s supposed to be wrapped, keep the swelling down,” he said. “I’ve got a kit in my truck, I can rewrap it for you.”

She glanced around, suddenly aware of the empty beach. “Um, speaking of your truck. My ride left me. You mind?”

He laughed and grabbed her board along with his. She had a small beach tote, just big enough to hold keys and phone. When they got to the truck, he tossed an extra towel at her.

“Always prepared,” she laughed. “That a SEAL thing, boss?”

“Something like that,” he said. He pulled a battered Coronado tshirt out of the back seat of the truck and yanked it over his head. Kono shivered and pulled her towel around her. He leaned further into the truck and came out with a neatly folded long sleeve shirt, a plaid one, and offered it to her.

“Thanks,” she said. “My clothes were in my friend’s car. Seriously, I can’t believe she -- I’m sorry about this.”

“No worries,” he said. He hesitated a beat. “I’m glad you didn’t drive.”

“I, uh . . . I hit a couple shots of tequila pretty hard when I got home,” she said, dropping her eyes.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said levelly. “It was a shitty day, Kono. I’m glad you didn’t drive. It’s no problem to give you a ride home.”

They rode in silence for a while. Kono leaned her head back against the seat and let the air rush in over her face.

“So, what, you draw the short straw? The three of you decided someone needed to make sure Kono didn’t lose her shit, beat the crap about of someone tonight? Or what, Chin think I couldn’t handle Sandy’s?” Kono asked. She had an edge of anger back to her voice. Steve made a mental note that apparently, salt water diluted it, but Kono was back on dry land now. Maybe it was a mermaid thing.

She was looking at him strangely. “Mermaid? Boss?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

He shook his head. “No straws, no big discussion, I just -- when you missed your graduation, and we --”

“That was really awesome of you guys,” Kono said quietly. “Better than the academy graduation.”

“Yeah. Good,” Steve said. “I meant it. We meant it. You’re ohana, we look out for you. I mean, we look out for each other, but also, we look out for you. The three of us. You know that, right?”

“Because you’re the big strong men and I’m the weak little girl?” she asked. He could hear the eye roll.

“No, because we’re family,” he said. “And because Chin is your cousin, and because Chin and Danny have years of experience as cops. And because ultimately, every one of you are my responsibility. My team, my responsibility.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Kono said.

He stopped at a red light, looked over at her.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You had a rough day. You have an injury. Sandy’s is serious surf. I came tonight because it’s what I do. It’s what we do.”

She studied him for a moment.

“Also, seriously, Danny was gonna come to Sandy’s?” Steve asked. “Can you imagine?”

Kono laughed, then, loud and clear into the night, and Steve laughed with her.

#*#*#*#*#*#

“What do you mean, Kono’s calling in sick, not coming to the arraignment?” Danny asked, gesturing wildly. “I woulda thought she’d have been the first in line to see the judge deny bail and throw his sorry ass straight into Halawa to await trial.”

“She says her hand is bothering her more than she’d realized, and she’s heading back over to Queens to get another set of x-rays,” Steve said calmly.

Chin shook his head. “Something is bothering her, of that much I’m certain.”

“You’re not buying it either,” Steve said.

“When has Kono ever let an injury keep her home?” Danny demanded. “This case . . .”

“We go to the arraignment,” Steve said. “We promised those girls and their families that we would be there. Then, we go find Kono.”

#*#*#*#*#

“He believed us. The judge believed us.”

Steve heard the girl whisper over the chaos of the courtroom, where the judge had just denied bail for the defendant. He knelt down on the floor in front of her.

“Of course he did, sweetheart. We all did,” Steve said. Chin sat down in the chair next to her, nodding in agreement.

“Kono said, it didn’t matter,” she continued. “She said we were brave, and that Five-O believed us, and that even if no one else did, we had to believe in ourselves.”

Steve’s eyes met Chin’s.

“You think maybe Danny --” Steve started, hesitant. “Chin, she would’ve said, right?”

Danny saw their expressions, excused himself from a conversation with a parent, and hurried toward them.

“What?” he demanded.

“We gotta go,” Steve said.

Chin was already busy pinging Kono’s cell phone on his tablet.

#*#*#*#*#

“I, ah, I have a key,” Chin said, looking at Kono’s front door as it stood ajar. The lock listed sadly in the splintered frame. Steve looked at him, a little confused.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah.”

“For God’s sake, put your gun away,” Danny hissed at him. “She’s upset, she’s not a hostage.”

“We don’t know that,” Steve said. His jaw set stubbornly again, and Chin sighed, falling in behind Steve as he cleared the living room.

“Kono, babe?” Danny called out. He picked his way through the tiny living area, stopping next to the sofa. “I’ve got some broken glass and blood.”

Steve favored them with an impatient and what did I tell you look, then moved into the back of the cottage. He pushed a door open, gingerly, with his foot, his hands locked around his SIG.

“Shit, Kono,” he muttered. Danny and Chin saw his shoulders slump in relief, his weapon slipping smoothly back into its holster. 

“I called in,” they heard Kono say, in a small voice. “Am I still in trouble?”

All they could see, then, was one of Steve’s boots, sticking out of the bathroom door, as he knelt down for the second time that morning.

“No, Kono, you’re not in trouble,” Steve said. “We were worried about you.” 

Danny smiled; Steve was getting better at this, at soothing frightened victims. Then it hit him, like a punch in the gut -- Steve was treating Kono like a victim, and nothing about that was right, or normal.

“My hand is broken,” Kono said. She was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, and she held up both hands, wrapped in a bloody towel, as evidence. “Just a little. They gave me pills. My other hand got hurt.”

“Okay,” Steve said. He poked his head around the door, looking back at Danny. “Grab the red kit from your trunk, will you?”

“Red kit -- I don’t have a red -- apparently, I do,” Danny grumbled, heading out toward the car.

“Steve?” Chin murmured.

“Shit, Danny and Chin are here?” Kono groaned. She dropped her head into her hands and Steve winced as he got a better look. Her previously uninjured hand was covered in blood, which had also smeared the bandage on her other hand.

“Yeah, Danny and Chin are here,” Steve said. “Come on, let’s get you up and out to the kitchen where we can look and see what you’ve done to your hand.”

“Don’t want Danny and Chin to see me like this,” Kono said. “I think there’s something wrong with me. I think there’s something wrong with those pills.”

“They’ll understand,” Steve said. He went to haul her up by her elbows and she flinched away from him.

“Kono,” he whispered, pulling back his hands as if he’d been burned. “I’ll get Chin.”

“No,” she said quickly. Her lip started to tremble. “I don’t want Chin to see me like this. Chin and Danny, they’re . . . they’re good cops. Put together. Very . . . they have it together.”

“Yeah,” Steve said slowly. He wasn’t following her.

“‘S’okay, boss,” Kono said. “You get it. I could see it, the way you surfed.”

“What do I get?” he asked. He could hear Danny stop next to Chin, both of them silent, listening.

“When you’re not put together, on the inside,” Kono said. “Makes you . . . hang people off the roof. Hit people you’re not supposed to hit. ‘S’okay, I’m okay.”

“It’s okay to help you up?” he asked.

She nodded, blinking up at him. “Why the hell wouldn’t it be? Don’t be weird.”

“You -- never mind,” he said He reached for her again, cautiously, his big hands wrapping easily around her elbows and hauling her to her feet. She swayed a little and he steadied her.

Chin and Danny had slipped into the kitchen, and Steve could hear Chin starting the tea kettle while Danny opened the kit on the table. He kept a hand on the small of Kono’s back for the few steps it took them to reach the others.

“The arraignment was this morning,” Kono said, looking at the clock on the wall. It was pushing two o’clock.

Steve blinked at her abrupt segue. 

“Yeah, it was,” he said. He steered her toward one of the two chairs. 

“What are we gonna do, boss? He can’t get away with it. ‘S’not right,” Kono mumbled. 

“Kono . . . what do you mean? The judge wouldn’t even set bail,” Steve said. He sat down in the chair across from Kono and reached for her hand. “He was charged, every single count.”

“He’s going down, babe,” Danny said. He started to hand Steve a roll of paper towels, winced at the sight of Kono’s hand, and grabbed a few, wetting them at the kitchen sink.

“The judge believed them?” Kono whispered.

“Yeah, of course,” Chin said. He poured a cup of tea and placed it next to Kono. 

Steve fished a sliver of glass out of the base of Kono’s thumb and held it aloft, triumphantly, with the tweezers. He held Kono’s hand cradled in his, and Chin carefully dabbed away the blood.

“Does it hurt?” Chin asked.

“Nothing hurts,” Kono answered, blinking up owlishly at her cousin. Danny raised his eyebrows and started looking for a prescription bottle. “The judge. He believed the girls. All of them?”

“Yes,” Chin said. “Steve, will this need stitches?”

“Nah,” Steve and Kono answered, in unison. Kono started laughing, and Steve smiled as he placed strong, waterproof butterfly bandages on the surprisingly small cut on her hand.

“He was surprised, wasn’t he?” Kono asked, still laughing. 

“Who, honey?” Chin asked. 

Danny found the prescription bottle next to the sink, and tossed it to Steve, shrugging. Based on the sheer number of times that Steve had visited the emergency room, just in the six months they’d worked together, he figured the SEAL had more than a passing knowledge of pain killers.

“The pastor, the asshole,” Kono said. She pulled her hand away from them, abruptly. “He told them no one would believe them. They told. They told anyway, and the DA believed them. We believed them. The judge believed them.” She stood up, knocking her chair over behind her.

“Hey, Kono,” Chin said, reaching for her. 

She knocked his hand away, shaking. “What the hell makes them so special, hunh? Is it because they were good girls, they went to church? Is that why everyone believed them? What makes them so special?”

“Kono --” Chin tried again.

“I’m gonna be sick,” Kono mumbled, pushing past all of them. She slammed the door of her bathroom closed.

“What is she taking?” Chin demanded of Steve.

“Tramadol,” he said, his eyes on the bottle, not meeting Chin’s. 

“It has to be making her talk crazy,” Chin said. “Right? That’s what this is.”

“Chin,” Danny said softly. 

“Steve,” Chin said, pleading with him. 

Steve rubbed his hand over his face. “It’s not a hallucinogenic, Chin. It’s making her a little loopy . . . I think maybe she got sleepy, took an extra dose, but . . . it just makes you loopy. Lose. Lowers your inhibitions.”

“Oh, God,” Chin said. “She’s saying stuff she . . .”

“Saying stuff out loud that normally she wouldn’t say out loud,” Danny finished. “Chin, I’m so sorry.”

“You knew, when she went off on --” Chin said, shaking his head. “Both of you, the other night, Danny you -- and Steve, you drove out to Sandy’s -- because --”

Steve and Danny exchanged glances, then looked back toward the bathroom. They could all hear the shower running. 

“I didn’t wanna be right,” Danny said quietly. “I let you convince me I was wrong. But the way she tore into that guy . . . I thought I saw something, yeah.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck as Chin turned to him.

“You heard her,” Steve said. He looked down at his boots, scuffed his toe against the floor. “I’m not put together right on the inside. Guess I thought I recognized that . . . I don’t know . . .”

“Babe,” Danny said, all fond and sympathetic, and Steve wondered, not for the first time, who really took care of who around here.

“What do we do?” Chin asked. “I mean, she’s got to tell us who -- and we need to press charges, we need to get a warrant and --”

“Whoa,” Danny said. “Come on, Chin, she’s under no obligation to tell us anything, much less press charges.”

“But she’s a cop, Danny, we know what happens when these things go unreported,” Chin argued. “You’re a cop, I’m a cop --”

“We could just, you know. Take care of it,” Steve said. 

Chin and Danny stopped, turned, and looked at him. 

“I’m just saying,” Steve shrugged. 

“No,” Danny said, slowly and firmly, as if Steve was Gracie, instead of a lethal member of the military elite. “What is even -- no.”

They heard the squeak of the old faucets being turned off, the muffled sounds of Kono thumping around in the bathroom.

“So what do we do?” Chin demanded.

“Whatever she needs us to do,” Danny said. He noticed Steve start to open his mouth, and continued quickly. “Short of handing out vigilante justice.”

Steve closed his mouth. 

“We don’t even know what, if anything, has happened, or did happen . . .” Danny said. “All of this, whatever this is, it has to be on Kono’s terms. Come on Chin, you know this. If she wasn’t your cousin, you’d --”

“But she is my cousin,” Chin said. “Danny, you don’t even know what that means here. She’s my cousin, my ohana, and I was supposed to protect her, I was --”

He stopped short as the bathroom door opened. Kono emerged, faint wafts of toothpaste and shower gel trailing after her, and shuffled into her bedroom, wrapped in a huge beach towel. The door closed behind her with a thud.

“Go home, I’m fine,” she yelled. “Thanks for the band aids, they’re still good.”

“We are not leaving,” Steve said. He stared defiantly at Danny, who kept saying no to his ideas.

“No, we are not leaving,” Danny said. “Not until we know she is okay. But then, if she wants us to leave, we leave.”

Chin started to object, but Danny shook his head. “Chin, if . . . okay, just -- we don’t know, but if . . . the last thing she needs is three guys, looming over her, trying to tell her what to do. Okay?”

Chin nodded solemnly as Kono came out of her room. She was wearing cut off shorts and a t-shirt, and Steve’s shirt from his truck over it, wrapped tightly around her.

“Hey, cousin,” he said softly, stepping toward her. Danny and Steve retreated into the living area, to give them some pretense of privacy.

“Chin, I sorry I worried you,” Kono said dully. “Those pills . . . I don’t think I better take those any more. I felt better once I puked. I think I just want to take a nap. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Kono, we need to talk,” Chin said.

“No, I didn’t -- I don’t . . . please, can we just forget it?” Kono asked. Her teeth started to chatter, and Chin reached for her, carefully folding her into a hug.

“I can’t forget it,” he murmured, pressing his face into her hair. “You’re shaking, is it your hand?”

Steve slipped by them in the narrow space, grabbed the quilt from Kono’s bed, and wrapped her in it. He scooped her up, like she was nothing, like she was one of the little girls she’d just spent weeks interviewing. Before she could argue or protest, she was deposited with infinite care onto her sofa, and Danny was at her elbow, handing her a glass of juice and a protein bar.

It was the way that Danny carefully unwrapped the top of the protein bar, so that she wouldn’t have to struggle with it, that was her undoing.

She shook her head, losing the argument with herself, as tears started to track down her cheeks. She looked between the three of them, helplessly. 

“For starters, let’s get your blood sugar back up and some food in you,” Danny said. He kicked his shoes off in the general direction of the door, and rolled up his sleeves, then sat down in a comfortably shabby chair. No rush, no hurry -- clearly intending to stick around for the long haul. “When was the last time you ate, anyway?”

Kono shrugged and took a bite of the protein bar, wiping at the tears still streaking down her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I’m ordering a pizza, and it’s going to have pineapple on it,” Chin said, heading for the kitchen.

Danny winced, and it made Kono smile. Worth it, he thought, he’d eat all the pineapple if it would put a smile on her face. She tried to take a sip of her juice, but her hand was shaking.

“I’ve got you,” Steve murmured. His hand wrapped around hers, holding the glass steady as she drank. She choked a bit, and he tilted the glass back. “Take your time.”

Chin came back from the kitchen and sat down in the chair closest to Kono. He smiled at her gently, and a fresh rush of tears stung her eyes.

“I didn’t mean what I said about those girls,” she said, shoving at her cheeks impatiently with the heel of her hand. 

“It’s okay if you did,” Chin said. He steepled his fingers together. “It’s just us in this room. Unless you want anyone to leave.”

Kono shook her head. “I feel stupid.”

“Why, honey?” Danny asked softly. 

“For . . . making a scene. Making you guys worry about me,” Kono said. “Wow, those pills . . . have to put those on the no-no list in my medical records.”

“Kono,” Steve said quietly. “No one’s going to force you to tell us anything you don’t want to, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to buy your bullshit. Remember. It takes one to know one, right?”

She dropped her eyes and nodded.

“You are a talented and valued member of Five-O,” Steve continued. “Nothing is going to change that. Nothing is going to change how much we respect and admire you, Kono. But teams work better without secrets. And I would like it very much if you could trust us enough to tell us why it took everything I had in me to pull you off of that rat bastard before you did permanent damage. Because, Kono -- something like that, if it’s possible that could happen again, we need to know. For your safety, for the team’s safety.”

She nodded again, curling in on herself, pulling the blanket around her.

“If you want me and Danny to leave, let you just talk to Chin, we can do that,” Steve said. 

Kono shook her head. She was quiet for several long moments, and Danny was just about to gently suggest that he and Steve leave anyway, let her get some rest under the watchful eye of her cousin, when she started to talk.

“You know there’s churches that do summer camps for kids,” she said. “My folks sent me to one, this one summer, because . . . I don’t know, maybe a neighbor invited me. We didn’t go to church, not really. But I was a handful, rowdy, so much energy --”

Chin chuckled. That was an understatement, from what he remembered.

“I told,” Kono whispered.

They almost missed it, but not quite, and it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

“That’s what everyone wants to know, right, why didn’t they say something, those girls,” Kono said. “Why didn’t they tell . . . I mean, before. Before it was so many of them, before . . .” she stopped, fidgeting with the bandage on her hand. “I told,” she said again, defiant. Angry.

“Kono . . .” Chin whispered. “Not me. You didn’t tell me. I was old enough, I would have -- ”

“She -- she told me you wouldn’t believe me!” Kono said, her voice shaking. “She told me it was my fault, I wasn’t a nice girl, I wore my shorts too short, and a bikini under -- she said it was my fault, and that no one would believe me. No one would ever believe me.”

“Who?” Steve said. His fists clenched tights, nails digging crescents into the flesh.

“One of the church ladies,” Kono said. She sank back into the sofa. “I told her. I wanted her to call my mom to come pick me up. She said . . . never tell, because no one would believe me, and even if they did, it would just prove it.”

“Prove what?” Danny asked softly.

“That I was bad,” Kono said. “Wicked.”

“Kono, no . . .” Chin said, his voice breaking. 

“It wasn’t as -- those girls, the one we talked to . . . it wasn’t that bad,” Kono said, and her words were spilling out in a rush again. “It could have been a lot worse, it wasn’t that big --”

“No,” Danny said, more forcefully. He leaned forward, into Kono’s line of sight. “No. Kono, did someone do something, to you, that they shouldn’t have? That was wrong?”

Kono nodded.

“Then you don’t have to be thankful that it wasn’t worse. You don’t have to try to make us feel better about it,” Danny said.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kono said. “I just . . . I didn’t mean to be bitchy, about those girls.”

“We know, Kono,” Steve said. “And it’s not fair. That the person you told didn’t . . . that’s on them, Kono, not on you.”

Chin reached out and carefully, gently took Kono’s hand in his. “Kono, whatever it was that happened . . . it wasn’t your fault. Look at me. It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault.”

“And you believe me?” Kono asked.

“Yes,” Chin said, without hesitation. Danny and Steve nodded firmly.

“Of course we believe you, Kono,” Steve said.

“Would you have believed me back then?” Kono whispered, looking at Chin.

“Yes, cousin,” Chin said. He pressed his forehead to Kono’s. “Yes, I would have believed you then. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kono, that I didn’t know, that I didn’t see --”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want you to. I thought . . . it doesn’t matter now.”

Chin wrapped his arms around her, tucking her head under his chin. “You will always matter, Kono. Always.”

A soft knock on the front door alerted them to the pizza delivery, and Steve and Danny quickly went to the door and stepped outside to take care of it. They could hear Kono’s soft sobs and Chin’s words of comfort, murmured in pidgin, as they closed the door behind them. A generous tip and a discrete flash of Steve’s badge, and the delivery boy was off in a flash.

Danny placed the boxes carefully on the small front stoop and then sank down onto the steps. Steve sat down next to him, his long legs extending well out in front of him.

“Danny,” Steve said quietly, “I’m starting to wonder if I’m cut out for this.”

“For what?” Danny asked.

“Being a . . . a cop,” Steve said. “I don’t -- I can’t -- “

“Look -- the way I see it, there’s three parts to being a cop. Okay, you got the physical part, easy,” Danny said. “You can run perps into the ground all day, you’re a great shot, your driving -- okay, it’s terrifying but effective. That’s one part. You’ve got decent -- okay, better than average -- investigative skills. Weird, not so much intuitive as just horrifyingly persistent, but that’s okay, and you’ve also got me and Chin, so there you go. That’s another part.”

“It’s this third part . . . I don’t know, Danny,” Steve said. “Kono . . . I don’t know how you do this. How do -- when innocent people, vulnerable people are . . . when I was in the teams, we didn’t get close, we didn’t get personal. I don’t know if I can do this part, where I have to take witness statements. Where I have to listen to them and -- Kono wasn’t the only person who wanted to beat the shit out of that guy, Danny. She just happened to get to him faster than me.”

“Yeah, restraint . . . that’s gonna be an issue,” Danny said, chuckling. “But the rest of it? Steve, it’s the part you can’t teach, you can’t train. The way you knew to go after Kono the other night, that’s instinct. The way you talked her down when we got here today, wrapped her in that blanket . . . you trust those instincts, you’ll be fine.”

“I did okay?” Steve asked.

Danny smacked him gently on the shoulder. “I mean, I still have a lot to teach you about procedure, but yeah. With Kono, with this -- you did okay. The quilt . . . that was very nice.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “The night after my mom’s funeral . . . Mary, she just couldn’t get warm. I guess, it’s shock, or something. I just remember, her teeth chattering and . . . I don’t know. That’s what I did for Mary, that night, and it seemed to help.”

Danny stared at him. 

“What?” Steve demanded.

“You have surprising depths, is what I’m finding out,” Danny said.

The door opened behind them.

“Kono says you guys need to stop braiding each other’s hair and bring her some pizza,” Chin said, summoning up a smile. 

Danny thought he looked like he’d aged five years since they’d stepped out.

“Well, by all means, then, let us render tribute,” Danny quipped. He stood up, shaking out his bad knee, and grabbed the pizza.

Chin started to follow him inside, but turned, suddenly, and stepped out onto the porch. He grabbed the railing with both hands and leaned over, going pale beneath his tan.

“Whoa, man, I’ve got you,” Steve said, putting a hand between Chin’s shoulder blades.

Chin swallowed convulsively. “I drove her. I remember that summer. I was just old enough, had my license. I picked her up, almost every evening, on my way home from summer practice.”

“Ah, shit,” Steve mumbled. “You couldn’t have known, Chin.”

“I feel like I should have, though, you know?” Chin asked. He took a deep, steadying breath. “She must have been upset . . . there must have been some sign, some indication . . .”

“That you’d recognize now, yeah,” Steve said. “But not then. Don’t do this to yourself, it won’t help. It won’t help Kono.”

“You’re right,” Chin said. “He’s dead, by the way. She doesn’t want to talk about it, not anymore, not tonight anyway, but she wanted us to know that much. She looked him up; if there was any chance he still -- she would be pressing charges but . . . “

Steve leaned against the railings, his arms crossed over his chest.

“The church? The other people?” he asked, his face stony.

“No longer exists . . . building is a day care now . . . she doesn’t remember names, anything,” Chin sighed. “I think . . . honestly, I think she worked so hard to forget about it that she succeeded, until this case. But there’s no one to prosecute.”

Steve gave him a look that left no question -- filing charges hadn’t been first and foremost on his mind.

“I know,” Chin said. “I couldn’t promise her that I wouldn’t do some digging but . . . she’s pretty adamant that she doesn’t want to talk about it. I guess we’ll have to respect that. It took alot, her telling us.”

Steve nodded. “I wanted to be wrong. So did Danny. I’m sorry, Chin.”

“And I thought being a cop would be dangerous for her,” Chin said. “Who knew . . . being a little girl . . .”

“I know,” Steve said. 

“Okay, she’ll be yelling at us . . . or eating all the pizza,” Chin said. He opened the front door.

Kono and Danny were sitting on the sofa, arguing over the remote and over the merits of pineapple on pizza.

“Danny seems to think that I would be in the mood for a romantic comedy,” Kono protested, loudly. “Tell him, Chin, tell him those movie are for pansy asses.”

“Language,” Chin chided, grabbing a piece of pizza and sitting down next to her.

“Guys?” Kono asked, around a mouthful of pizza. “Why is my door busted?”

Steve grabbed a piece and sat down, smiling at their antics. Maybe Danny was right. Maybe, he would be okay with this part.

#*#*#*#*#

24 hours later

“Danno!” Gracie yelled, bounding down the school steps and into Danny’s waiting arms. 

“Hey, monkey,” Danny said. He held her tight, standing up with his arms wrapped around her, smelling the sweet powdery scent of her shampoo.

“What are we going to do today, Danno?” Gracie asked, when he finally released his hold enough for her to breathlessly wonder.

He looked at her, stroked her cheek gently with the back of his finger. “Monkey, we’re going to go get a shave ice, and Danno wants to talk to you about something very serious, okay?”

“Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, everything is fine, and I love you so much,” he said. “And I want everything to always be fine for you, so we’re going to talk about some stuff. Danno loves you, you know that?”

“Love you more,” she said, giggling.

Across town, Steve parked the Silverado in front of the house, and for once, let the memories come. He could see Mary, pigtails bouncing behind her, chasing him up the front steps and into the house. He thought of her, shaking and shaking the night of their mother’s funeral, their father . . . where was he? In the study? Or had he gone back, to HPD . . . Steve had pulled the quilt from Mary’s bed, and wrapped her in it, snug, and tucked her into his bed, and held her until she’d fallen asleep. He thought of her sad, pinched face, the day their father drove them to the airport.

He thought of her, growing up so far away from him, changing from a scrawny, scrappy little kid into a lovely young woman with sparkling eyes, still so petite, so delicate . . . 

The waves lapped gently and he stared at them as he dialed her number, waiting . . . 

“Stevie?” her voice, confused. He’d forgotten about the time difference.

“Mare,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, I --”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she said. “Seriously. It’s really good to hear from you. What’s up?”

He took a deep breath, cleared his throat. “Mary . . . I want to ask you something . . . I want you to feel like you can tell me, okay, you can tell me anything . . . “

#*#*#*#*#

6 weeks later

Kono knocked softly on the open door of Steve’s office. He waved her in.

“Hey, Kono, what’s up?” he asked, looking up at her and smiling.

She took a deep breath. “I was wondering, unless we get an active case in the morning, if I could have a long lunch tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sure,” he said. He glanced at her hand. “Your hand healing up okay?

She fidgeted with the stapler on his desk. “It’s not for my hand. I . . . I talked to Chin some more and, I think I’m going to try meeting with a therapist. You know.”

“Oh. Oh, okay, yeah,” he said. 

“I mean, I don’t want to get you in trouble, you know, have a brutality report filed against me and stuff,” she said, forcing a laugh. “Figure, I should get my shit together.”

“Kono,” he said softly. “I think it’s a good idea. Take as much time as you need, whenever you have an appointment. It’s a given. You don’t need to check with me every time.”

“Every time what?” Danny said, barging in to the office and grabbing a pen out of the neatly arranged cup on Steve’s desk.

“Oh good grief,” Kono said, rolling her eyes. “I’m going to talk to a therapist, don’t make it a thing.”

“Ah, good, babe. Everyone should go to therapy, good for the soul. Steve, for example, he should go to therapy,” Danny said. He kissed Kono on the top of the head and leaned on Steve’s desk, beaming at her..

She shook her head and laughed.

“There’s a meeting?” Chin asked, poking his head in the door.

“There is absolutely no privacy around here, none, at all,” Kono said.

“Oh, you told them about going to therapy,” Chin said, smiling proudly. “It was my idea, after she told me about the nightmares.”

“Kono --” “Babe --” Steve and Danny were suddenly more concerned.

“Wasn’t going to mention that to my boss, and my other boss,” Kono said, smiling tightly at Chin.

“Oh, sorry,” Chin said.

“Kono, if you need some time --” Steve started.

“No!” Kono exclaimed. “It’s . . . I’m good, Steve, really and truly. Maybe this is just a little more to deal with than I thought.”

Steve nodded, his eyes locking with hers. She saw it again, that flash of recognition. “I get it, Kono,” he said quietly. “Sometimes, you shove things down . . . I understand.”

“We all do,” Danny said. “I’m just sorry . . . it’s something you realize will be inevitable, you choose to be a cop . . . I’m sorry that you’re dealing with it for something personal, is all.”

Steve came around to the front of his desk and leaned against it, next to Danny.

“We meant it, the night of your graduation,” Steve said. “We’ve got your back, Kono. I wish we could somehow have protected you back then. I’m sorry that no one did.”

“But now, you don’t have to deal with it alone,” Danny continued. “Nightmares, memories . . . whatever it is, you can come to us, all of us, you know?”

Kono looked at the three of them. “Okay, this is sweet, but can we go . . . I don’t know, shoot something now?”

“We have a case?” Steve asked, perking up.

“We have -- no, if we had a case, you’d get the call,” Danny said, smacking him. 

“Sometimes Duke calls Chin first,” Steve pointed out.

“Well, yes, if he wants some semblance of order, as opposed to you just dashing in, all willy nilly,” Danny ranted, “you know, ostensibly with some plan, or approach, but which we all know is really just you --”

“Ostensibly? You’re going with that one?” Steve said. He started following Danny out of his office, without actually knowing why, as Chin shook his head patiently and did something clever with the smart table.

Kono followed them, smiling.

#*#*#*#*#


End file.
